Tuesday, May 28, 2013

Live like a dog

I’ve
written about living in the moment before and most likely I will again. It is a
spiritual practice with rich rewards but it does take practice. The happiest
people I know are those who have cultivated this skill, leaving the past in the
past, forgiving themselves and learning from mistakes, and not projecting too
far into the future. Sometimes I call this ability to live in the present,
“living like a dog.”

Dogs are
truly remarkable creatures. Loyal, non-complainers (unlike my cat who is
capable of maligning my character to anyone in the vicinity), quick to forgive,
I find they carry life lightly. My little dog Toto truly lives in the moment.
If I ask him the time, he says “now.” Same food day after day? He’s delighted.
Only water to drink? He’s grateful. Going for a walk? Best activity ever
invented. On the occasions when I can take him off the leash to run, it is pure
bliss for him, echoed in the electric activity of his little body.

When he is
naughty and I scold him, he has forgotten the whole thing in ten minutes and is
back to adoring his people. He makes friends easily, is slow to judge, and
holds no resentments.

He even
asks for what he wants (to play), and lets me know when he needs something
(when he asks to go out).

For him,
this all comes naturally, because he lives in the present moment. For me, most
of this takes effort. The thing is, though, that I have a choice in how I will
live and can choose to practice this living in the moment.

A few days
ago I was with a client who was making himself miserable over something that might happen. What Buddhists call “the
monkey mind” had taken over and he was obsessively thinking about scenario A
leading to scenario B leading to scenario C and so on until, in his mind he had
met with complete financial ruin. Was any of this true? Not so much. He has
several successful small businesses, lives in a nice home, and provides well
for his family. So I asked him if he was all right at this very moment. And he
said yes. He was more than fine at that very moment; he was well taken care of.
I reminded him that the singular moment was all he had.

And that is
all any of us ever have. This very moment. I have the power to choose to live
in each moment of each day. To notice what is around me. To choose to not go down
the “what if” path and to choose instead to delight in what is. Just like Toto.